


Strings Tie Us Together

by sunshinelou



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Abusive Parents, Abusive Relationships, Drug Use, Eventual Smut, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, Kidnapping, M/M, OT5, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Recreational Drug Use, References to Drugs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-07
Updated: 2014-04-07
Packaged: 2018-01-18 11:48:53
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,788
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1427374
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunshinelou/pseuds/sunshinelou
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Hey guys. New story. I feel like it'll help me finish up Take. Wish me luck</p>
    </blockquote>





	Strings Tie Us Together

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys. New story. I feel like it'll help me finish up Take. Wish me luck

**_ -N+L- _ **

It started with Niall and Liam.

They’ve known each other since they were seven. Niall moving from Ireland and Liam being his next door neighbor. Liam, pure glee bubbling inside of his chest to finally have a boy to play with.

Liam was timid in front of adults and other intimidating children. Being bullied for not running as fast as the other kids and always need medicine for his undeveloped kidney. But, he would at least try a friendly approach that doesn’t fail all the time.

“Hi!”

Niall whipped his head around; eyes wide. His hands stopped pulling the blades of crusty grass beneath him. Niall was shy. Not Liam-shy but shy. He liked to observe first, hoping it’s a safe playing field before indulging.

“Ello.”

Liam smiled. The brunette had an Irish accent. Red, chubby cheeks and a crooked smile and big, big, big eyes.. “My mum told me you’re new. My mum likes your mum. Hope you like me too.” Liam ducked his head, blushing.

“My mum said she gave us fruit. So yeah, I like ya. You got any race ‘ars?” Liam nodded furiously, pull Niall up and in his backyard.

“My dad built this for me. Pretty cool, yeah?” It was a tree house. Almost looked like it was meant to be there; filling up the wide hollow space. Niall grinned.

“Race you!”

Niall grinned harder, cheek burning brighter.

From then own it was always Niall and Liam. Niall+Liam. NiallLiam.

___

One year later; things get serious. (As serious as you can get for any eight year old).

Their lying on Niall’s bed; eyes up to the star covered ceiling. This is the third time Liam’s has been to Niall’s house. He’s only see Greg and Niall’s mum. Liam fidgets cause the question he wants to ask hurts his chest.

“Where’s your dad?” It’s fast. But Niall’s understand family that’s talks fast when they’re drunk. Niall tenses; close his eyes.

“Gone.”

“Why?”  
“I don’t want him. We don’t need him.”

It didn’t really answer his question, but Liam doesn’t question it because Niall’s crying and Liam’s frowns because it’s his fault and he hates that so he hugs him. Kiss his cheek again and again.

“Well you got my dad. He thinks you’re smart. Funny too. And he said Irish people are the best.” Liam babbles on and Niall smiles that ‘brighter than the sun’ smile and everything’s okay again.

____

It wasn’t until Niall and Liam were eleven when they fell upon it. Literally.

So big factory company Niall could never pronounced the name of and Liam kept repeating were creating some large building to hold all their stuff. The small town began to reek; and soon the factory was cut off for going any further into their creation.

Rumors spread like wildfire that animals were turning into mutants because of the products they use. Kenny Williams swore up and down that he saw a man who had inhaled too much of the waste. He then suffocated, died, came back to life and was a zombie that walked the forest grounds.

Niall, being the more adventurous of the two (and just too damn curious for his own good), decided that they needed to investigate.

“Niall, what would we even get from going there?” Liam reasoned as Niall took all that they needed in his camp backpack. four chewy bars, two water bottles filled with juice, his wrist watch (it was his brother’s. He has yet to return it), an old Polaroid camera, a pocket knife, lighter, flash light and pepper spray.

“Why do you need pepper spray?” Niall gave Liam a ‘really’ look. Liam flushed.

“What if what Kenny said was true? We need to spray his eyes so we could run!” Niall stated this like it was pure logic.

Niall kissed me, he kissed me. Niall grinned. “Well come then!”

Liam knew he was gonna regret this.

____

“Nialler, we’ve be walking for hours!” Liam whined, dragging himself up the man-made mounds after Niall. Niall said, _‘i can’t just lose ya! ‘Cause we don’t have night-fivison, you’ll have to hold my hand.’_

(His words, not liam’s).

“Shh! I think we’re almost there! Just a few more-” The dirt was loose; slipping under his feet. With a scream he was falling; pulling down Liam with him.

Down the hill they went; it only getting steeper and rough. Twigs pulled at the cloth of their clothes and dirt splattered all over them. Finally, Liam was able to grasp something in his free hand (he’d be damned if he dared let Niall go. He had a death grip over the small boy’s hand) and stop the momentum of the fall.

Niall had his eyes clenched; panting into Liam’s shoulder. “Are we dead?” He spoke out loud. Liam gave a hoarse chuckled.

“Hardly. Shit Ni, are you cold?” Niall peek one eyes open; on to see goo hanging on to the fringe of his hair. He yelped, wiping it hard.

“What is it?” The stared at the green-black colored slob. “Is this waste?”

Liam, swallowed in response.

Niall took his bag off and pull it to his side; taking out the last chewy. He opened and cut it in half. He took Liam’s hand like promise, kissing the part of his cheek that was somehow clean. “Thanks for staying with me. Let’s go home.”

___

As we reached the front doors of their home; their mums stood, staring down with glares that could put anyone six feet under. Liam gripped Niall’s hand tighter.

___

They aren’t allowed to see one another besides school. It makes Liam livid. His protest that,

‘Mum! Why does-’

‘Because your sisters are older than you!’

‘Not by much! And Niall is my best friend-’

‘Well maybe he’s a bad influence on you!’  
‘What?! You’re that said ‘go make friends. You’re always by yourself. Blah, blah, blah.’

Karen turns; eyes wide and wild. “Are you mocking me?”

Liam doesn’t back down. “Yes I am! Because you’re stepping on my happiness by taking it away! How could you?” And he’s crying but he runs upstairs before she sees his tears.

She sighs.

And Liam is really fuming. Shaking and he wants to scream. And like always he slams his fists to the wall and doesn’t except it to break or even dent. He just excepts to retract and cry harder but it does.

_Shit._ He thinks because now there’s a fist size hole in the wall and he’s trying to get his fists out and he pulls back hard and stumbles back.

There’s pieces of wood in his fingers.

And he’s just shocked. And he laughs. Loud and crazed.

_I can finally stand up for himself! For Niall and I and stupid, ugly Kenny-_ He was thinking happily but the dream stopped as soon as it started because he didn’t mean to make a hole in the wall and what if he makes a _hole in someone_ and now he’s terrified of this new found strength and he’s still crying as he pushing himself into the corner of his room; clutching his hand to his chest as he dozes of. The wound is slowly healing.

____

Niall didn’t put up a fight like Liam. Because as his mum scowled him the conversation turned to his father he was started crying and she started crying and she just sent him upstairs.

There, he’s looking at the window across from Liam’s. He only sees the Liam’s curtains though.

So he tries to go to sleep but something is crawling in his back. Like there’s bugs in there and it feel like they’re biting him. He hisses; pulling his arm back and almost ripping the skin by the way his scratching.

He grips something; it’s slick, covered in his blood, he knows. And it’s like it’s slipping out of him. He looks to see that it’s a feather.

He drops it; groaning because he feels it again.

And he’s just pulling. Scratching and pulling and when the feeling his gone he’s pulled out 29 feathers and he feels to quarter-sized holes. It’s leaking a bit. He’s doesn’t care. He’s just to scared.

“Niall-” Greg. Niall doesn’t care. Greg comes back with bandages and he holds Niall close when he’s done. “Are you okay?” Niall nods. He’s sleepy.  
“29 feathers came out of them.” Greg looks likes he gonna cry. He nods; combing through Niall’s hair. “I think- shit!” Niall eyes go wide; he throws of the blanket and dashing downstairs; Greg right behind him.

He’s got now shoes on and Greg yells, “Mum, we’ll be back,” and Niall bangs on the door. Ruth is there. Nial thinks she’s really pretty he he blushes from running and just looking at her. “H-have to see Liam. _Please._ ” She lets him passed and her trips twice before barging in; Liam in site.  
“Liam! Liam wake-” He gets shot right in his jaw. He yelps; pushing back as Liam wakes. “Whaa- what! Niall!” Liam cries and crawls to Niall but he’s flinches and Liam holds back a sob.  
“T-the water. The waste. I’ve got _wings,_ Liam. Don’t k-know what was in there b-but I’ve got _wings._ ” Niall is clutching his cheek and he’s pink all over and panting and Liam is half processing all over this.  
“Um, I punched you. I’ve never been that strong. I think I’ve got super strength? But I feel sick too.” Niall manages a small smile.  
“You got that good power. I’ve-” he’s eyes go wide. “Bathroom. Liam, bathroom.” Liam is pulling him and there inside in now time. Everything looks likes it flying and blurry.  
Niall pukes and gages and Liam rubs his back. Niall lays his head on the rim and flushes the toliet. “Li, I think ya got the speed, too.”  
Liam was about to smile but his belches and not he’s spewing. He groans and now Karen is there and she’s just sighs, getting the boys into bed. This boys are inseparable.

**__**-H-

Harry was always a shy kid. Happy but shy. And some people respected him for that. When he just nodded or shook her head people took that as a simple answer and moved on. When he was ready to talk- he’d talk. A really slow talker he was.

But lots of people didn’t. Teachers would get an agitated look in their eyes as they asked him and question and he’d stutter over his words. Or when he was off daydreaming and he’d get call on. “He isn’t that much time needed to waste,” A teacher had said about him.

So Harry stopped talk all at once.

He began to pay almost meticulous attention in class because he didn’t want to ask anyone for help. He was a good student. He just couldn’t get his B- in Celsius up. It was too frustrating.

It’s was easier when he was little. He was bright-eyed, cute, cheeky. Everyone thought he’d be the best, on top. And he just when with it

Know Harry knows it was his fault. He didn’t know exactly how. Even the ones that bully him said it. And when he asked what he did they laughed. So it was true. He’s dad didn’t just get up and leave for no reason. His mother and older sister Gemma down glance at him with pity in their eyes for no reason, either.

So if he took away his voice that’s one thing no one has to deal with.  
He was awkward. Instead of having bright, warm green eyes like his mother and sister, he had moss. _Moss?_ Gross. And instead of having some type of fitting body that could form to his family he was almost six feet and lanky. His bones were pointing out. He has huge hands and even bigger feet. This, another problem he felt guilt for. He’s mother had to go out of her way to get him shoes he didn’t deserve.

Also, instead of his mother wavy black hair or Gemma’s straight hair he use to have as a child, his turned to be unruly curls and a deep brown. It was so hard to handle in the morning so he just left it.

But there’s this one thing… or should I say three things Harry knows isn’t normal. He’s… different. As in super power different.

Look back now, he blames it on all the things his touch when his mothers said, _‘don’t touch things when you don’t know what they are.’_ or _‘don’t pick things off the floor.’_ he blames himself for his abnormality. He realizes that it’s easier to blame yourself. He just took it all.

He was nine when his father left him. At the time he wasn’t sad because he knew he’d come back. It was two weeks till Thanksgiving. He was _obviously_ come back because it was he’s father favorite Holiday. Then Christmas. Harry thought everyone was going crazy crying so much. Harry still had his friends and toys so he wasn’t bothered.

But his mother and Gemma were _still_ crying. Soon Gemma stopped but hiding herself in her room. But mother was crying hysterically. Some aunts came by to help but it was no use.  
Finally, Harry took a beep breathe and ran into his mother’s lap; clutching his mother’s stomach tightly. “Harry, now’s not…”

“It’s okay, mummy.” He whispered. “It’s going be just fine, mummy. I will help you cook, and cleaning and we can watch those gossip shows and eats sweets.” He listed all the happy things his mummy loved.

“And when you go to work and I go to school, I make you coffee with vanilla cream and you’ll make me a turkey sandwich.” He looked into his mum’s eyes and smiled really brightly, giving her the lotion tissues she loved.  
And finally, _finally_ she pulled out a genuine shaky smile. It was almost like magic. “Thank you, love bug. But you got to get to bed now.” He kissed his mother’s cheek and scurried to bed. But Gemma stops him with a smile on her face as well.

“You did good kid brother. You’re something special.” She ruffles his hair and he giggles, giving her a hug and biding her good night.

Unknowingly, he was compelling his mom to feel alright.

Harry was proud of himself… until _it_ happen.

He was 16. At 16 everything and everyone around is changing. So if you saw him laughing with a huge group of people; that changed. It you remember him winking and giving cheeky compliments; that changed. And if you saw him flirting with anyone he could put his ‘willy into’ as he and his friends said; that most definitely changed.

Everyone started- hating him. Even when he came out to his friends and family that he was bisexual everyone still accepted him at the age of 14 (and that’s a lot of deciding for a kid his age). Gemma went Uni and everyone loathed him. At first it was clear to him.

People only liked him because Gemma was here.

But the hitting and the slurs and even going about his looks didn’t have to do with Gemma.

People hated him because of his actions.

He moved too much. (He knows he has ADHD but dammit, he finds himself annoying). He talked to slow and he so not talking could fix that. Maybe his looks is an obvious turn-off.

(And sometimes. Sometimes he goes in from off the mirror with a sharpie and plays doctor with himself. putting dotted lines and x’s in places he’d like to removed. Once his mother, when he was sleeping and she looked like her little boy again, she saw them all over his stomach where his shirt risen).

And the students. Most of them were civil while others were just down right mean. Like taking his lunch money because he was too fat. Or flushing his head in the toilet because it was the cleanest shower he could afford (even though Harry’s mother was a nurse and his father still paid a heavy amount of child support). And tripped him down the stairs because “that’s the only attention you deserve.”

He’s one big mess because this little just keeps growing. Like he said, it’s better to take the blame.

Harry just walked to the park and sat on the bench, eating his chips and reading a book. He was just mere pages from the climax of the book when it was snatched from his grasp. He gasped; looking up to see his bully. It’s Ironic how he taunts him almost every day but still doesn’t know his name. “Aw, looking at the little bitch doing his work. And you forgot mine?”

The boy pulled out a lighter. It had black flames all running through the sides. Harry just looking with pleading eyes, hoping his book was safe.

“I like fires, Curly. Do you like fires?” The bully mused. Harry just stood, scared that this could get worse if he did anything else.

“Answer me Curly. Do. You. Like. Fires?” Harry didn’t respond.

Harry was seething. And it wasn’t like him to get angry like this. And unknowing his eyes turned to black souls and parts of the ground were breaking up and rising and one had thrown itself a the boy. Thne another. Rocks, stones and sticks were propelled at him. Harry’s eyes widen.

The bully started to scream hysterically. “Please make it Stop, stop, STOP!” As more pieces pelted him.

Harry turned away, feeling the bile trying to erupt. _Please stop this. Please please…_

And that’s what happened. The bully screams silenced and Harry grabbed his book, shoving it into his messenger bag and dashing home.

You would think Harry was proud of himself. Somehow getting back his bully for all those horrible things he caused him. But no…Harry felt awful.

Harry was no fighter in any way, shape or form. He had vowed to himself to never put anyone down or use the words ‘I hate you’ and hit anyone. He had vowed to never take his life no matter how bad it got because he could not hurt his family even more like his father did.

But he did just that.

And the next day; everyone look at him with caution in their eyes. So Harry tried his best to be unseen; invisible. But those fucking teachers think it’s a social problem they need to fix. But harry thought, _‘I’m not fucking broken. I just like to stay hidden. And I’m doing a fine job.’_

But someone took liking into him.

His name was Jacob. Jacob’s the kid with an athlete body and mind, but a movie star’s voice and personality. He was your American Boy. Blue eyes bright like the sea and when angry, looked like there was a storm coming. His hair was natural sandy blond (which is quite hard to find nowadays). His was a good three inches shorter than Harry but a whole lot of muscle.

And that’s what scared Harry. His was so… _lovely_ and Harry was just plain weird. But Jacob picked him. So Harry talked a bit, was all smiles.

Then Harry obviously messed up again.

 

Harry was _supposed_ to go to Jacob’s flat right after school. However Harry and his friend had to finish up their project so he texts Jacob an apology and explaining he would be running late.

He finished; biding Trevor goodbye before heading to the chocolate store. He knows how much Jacob like sweets. He takes ‘the Love Basket’ and walks the usual route to his flat. Harry was all smiles; teeth all full display and a skip in his step. People were smiling at him as well; thinking ‘this kid is adorable’ or ‘he’s just ball of joy.’

Harry dug in his pants pocket for the spare key; opening the door to be greeted with silence. “Hey babe, I feel really bad for being late so I brought you sweets. I got white, dark, hazelnut, and-” All too soon, with a great force, he was pushed against the wall.

He released a squeak; never being handle in such a way for a while. It was almost forgettable.

_Almost._

 

“Who the hell were you with, Styles?! Don’t fucking lie to me!” He screamed; his breath reeking of hard liquor.

“I told y-you. I was with Trevor doing my history p-project.” Harry whispered; the hold Jacob had on him was unbearable; knowing he’d have sore joints tomorrow.

Roughly; Jacob started to gnaw on Harry neck and jaw; putting unwanted wet kisses everywhere. His hand pulls at the front fringe of Harry’s hair making his whined. “You like him don’t you?” He whispered against the heat of Harry’s somewhat tan skin.

“What?” Jacob looked at him; blue eyes dull and bleak.

“I don’t like repeating myself, Styles. You want him don’t you? Want to be his dirty slut or something?” He slurred.

“I swear nothing h-happened. We’re just partners.” Harry explains; having pleaded in his voice so Jacob believes him.

“Bullshit!” And right there was the first hit. He received a hard backhand to the cheek. At first; Harry was just shocked till the second the pain spread like wildfire and he stumbled back into the wall and falling to the floor.

This seemed to snap Jacob from his drunken state of mind because he gasp; falling to the floor next to the silently sobbing boy.

“Harry- fuck I’m- I’m sorry baby it’ll never happen again I swear! Baby, please tell me you forgive me.” His baby blue eyes pleaded as he lifted up Harry chin.

Harry nods; the blond pulling him into his arms.

Harry believes him with his heart. And he thinks with his heart. Just because he didn’t get a second chance with his dad or kids at school doesn’t mean people don’t deserve second chances.  
But that wasn’t the case.

Less than a week later it happened. And not even four days after that it occurred. And we all know Harry was just too nice to stop and do something’ anything.

And he blames himself.

** _-Z-_ **

What the fucking fuck was it his problem to fucking move from all his ever fucking into this stupid foreign land with more stupid fucking people that he had to fucking deal with?

If you haven’t notice, Zayn is angry.

He loved his family, he really did. His dad had worked his finger to bone to get the best for his kids. He  
says he never picks favorites but he’s got a tiny soft spot for Zayn. Just for him being the only boy.

Zayn wasn’t shy. He wasn’t anti-social. He just agreed with his inner being about liking to be alone. He enjoyed his comic books and his books (he’s read _How to Kill and Mockingbird_ three times and never gets tired of it). He likes to be with his own devices. John Green great is his favorite writer while he listens to Spoken Words pieces.

But now, his mum, bless her heart, got promoted and said, _‘Were moving to Wolverhampton! Start packing guys!’_ And she giggled and squealed like a little girl and Zayn was so happy for her but so fucking angry. But he knows it’s good for her because it’s better that seeing her cry over the passing of his grandpa and aunt.

I mean, he could just compel his parents to stay. What would it hurt?

But then he realizes how disgustingly wrong it was to compel his parents so he leaves the idea. _For now._

Zayn discovers his powers when he got his second back of weed. It was laced. This to him is his only logically theory because weed is suppose to feel great but not give you fucking superpowers.. He remembers everything.

_He was only 16, just trying new things like everyone else. He meets Danny. He’s really pretty and he’s so fucking smooth and he has to thank him because everything he knows about the art of seduction is from him._

_And he gets the weed. And they’re laughing and touching and kissing and clothes are just too much and really fucking pointless in this situation. And Danny looked so good all slicked up with sweat and a dazed look in his eyes._

_And Zayn just wanted to pushed him down and make him take it. Ram into him with not remorse. And he did. Clumsily and awkward because the lube was cold and he bit his lip to hard and almost bled on Danny but didn’t stop nonetheless. He slammed in with the blunt still at his lips and Danny whimpered and he made the prettiest sounds and Zayn pulls him up by his hair; blowing the rest of the smoke into his mouth. He marks him; red blooms all over his neck, their are moons and blue fingers marks all over his hips._

_“I want to come inside you. But you don’t come.” And Danny was whimpering out pleas and pushes Zayn away and he gripped his neck again, growling:_

_‘Don’t you dare fucking come, yeah? You’re gonna look so pretty when you do though.” And Danny’s eyes dilated but not out of lust and he’s limp and just giving himself and Zayn bit back a gasp and grunted, releasing in him because if that wasn’t the hottest thing he’s seen he doesn’t know what is._

_Zayn pulled out; crawling down and suck him off. His back arch off the bed and Zayn rubbed circles into his stomach when he came._

_Zayn moved back and cuddle Danny’s back into his chest; still rubbing his stomach. “You good, babe?” Danny turned; looking at Zayn. His pupil was swallowing the color of his iris. Slowly, but surely, coming back to regular size._

_“Um, yeah. fuck. You were good.” Danny was back to himself. Zayn watched him close._

It seemed that he had the ability to compel people. Mentally and physically.  
So he grumbles, grunts and re-reads The Fault in Our Stars (all the hipsters kids always want to read it. He almost hates that. But John Green is _so good_ ).

And now he’s pissed because the seats in his Dad’s car are peeling and he can’t have him throw it away because he loves this car so damn much. And there isn’t enough space so Safaa has to sit on his lap and her hair is all in his face.

___

It’s not so bad, he thinks. In their backyard is a gateway to the woods, which Zayn has yet to explore. And he only has to walk two blocks to get to the lake. It’s a nice view, mostly when the sun sets.

But he’s got this peachy neighbor that insists on meeting him because _‘if your daughters are that pretty he must be a looker!’_ He can hear Irish tune from his room.

And Zayn groans because he has to go to school and it’s too early because the sun isn’t even out. His new school opens an hour early. Just fuck.

“Waliyha, hurry up, you twit!” Safaa is banging on the door and Waliyha is out; steam leaving the room and eyes angry. Zayn takes this chance to slide into the bathroom; slamming them both out.

“Zaaaaaayn!” He snickers; letting his body be covered by the heat of the water.

____

He’s slower than his sisters. Honestly with the grades he has he could put his parents to shame. His mum his making fresh muffins and he takes one; much to her dismay and he snickers. Kissing her on her temple and running before she yells at him to get some fruit.

He’s somewhat early, he thinks. Maybe a good 20 minutes. He talks out a cigarette; lighting it and blowing three holes. His about to lean on the metal bar when something connects with his back.

“Shit-fuck your back-shit.” A voice, low and hoarse mumbles. “Fuck, you okay?”

He’s cute. Cuter than Danny (sorry.) His hair looks like shit but Zayn could drown him his eyes (ew, that sounds corny as shit). He’s looks like a hipster. Or he belongs on the cover of an indie band. He’s in all black like Zayn and he really likes his shoes.

Zayn really enjoy that muffin so he helps the kid with his books. The kid beams; bright eyed and bright smiled and wow he’s gorgeous.

“‘M Harry. You?” His voice sounds a bit like static. Zayn takes a bit more of his smoke before stepping on it. “Smoking is terrible for you. Could kill you.” Harry mumbles, flipping the waves of hair back.

“And being nosy will kill you too.” He spats but regrets it because Harry’s eyes get dark but watery and his hands are shaking and if you haven’t notice, Zayn is very observant. He likes to say he can read people. He doesn’t like labels but he can categorize people. Harry is sensitive. Has no leash on his emotions. He can see the little pebbles behind the boy shaking. His eyes widen.

“What? what?” Harry’s eyes are bright again. the pebbles stop their shaking.

“You’re like me. eh?” Harry frowns, moving closer.

“What’da ya mean?” Harry’s voice shakes. Zayn scoffs, pulling Harry’s hand out. His forces is on the palm now. There are a couple of cuts. He got some big ass hands. Wonder if he’s good with his fingers. Zayn lifts the palm without touches him. Harry’s fingers crack. Harry gapes at him.

“Shit.” Zayn staring at Harry because he looks like a child. Looking (down) at him in awe. Zayn could hear the shool’s bell. So much for being on time.

He snatches back his hands and leaves a still shock Harry.

** _-L-_ **

Louis smiled bright. His _first **real** job_. He’s the school counselor. He’s doing pretty good for 22. He has his little messenger bag and his mum insisted he wears his glasses. _‘You look so smart! I’m so proud!’_ He grins and doesn’t protest.

He has his powers to thank.

He was 13 when he found his.

He was sick. Nasty, terrible flu. And it was the time of year were people (not a lot, Thank God) were dying. Mostly in young children.

His mother was frantic.

And she went to the other side of town just to get a vaccination.

Then, he’s fever broke.

Literally.

Well kind of.

His mum had put him in a warm bath. Because he said he was cold but was fired up as soon as he got in. And he couldn’t concentrate and he wish it was cooler because damn he felt like he couldn’t breathe. Then wave moved through the whole tub; freezing it a bit. There were little ice cubs floating above. And he swears he feels a snap in his brain. The water is terribly cold now.

He screams. Then faints.

His mother always told him about fairy tales. Stories of modern day people who are supernatural beings. Louis is one of those beings.

Apparently there is a whole league of them. Groups made to heighten each other’s strengths.. They’re made for each others. Louis always like the sound of that. That somewhere, he was build for someone. He’s suppose to mold and bond and _love_ that someone.

Louis over time realizes he can control nature. As if his veins are the roots of the Earth. He is connected to the seas, oceans and he feels them through his eyes. His lungs where made for the skies and his soul for fire.

He thinks he’s made for counseling. He likes making people feel safe, make them happy. His has little sisters that he’s been taking care of forever.

He knows how it feels. High school is intimidating. Lucky to have Eleanor (who he found out was a witch like his mum) and Sean to bare with him but still. He felt like he was being choked. Thrown back and forth between,

_‘You can’t be dumb but not too smart and you must act like guy and do weights but you can’t smell and do your homework but don’t become a prude. And remember to smile. But not to much teeth.’_

He’s hoping with young age but a wise (well he thinks his wise. The woman in the house just laugh. Mark pats his back and ask if he’s up to watch football) mind, he able to help.

He enters the office to see a bright, plum face. Mrs. Georgia. She doing good for 32. On her four husband and with the energy she releasing, he’s off to a good start.. She has lots of rings like a mind reader would. Red lipstick and she pushed in a tight business suit. She’s too sweet so Louis doesn’t cringe.

“How’s the babies? Figure out a name?” She blushes and laughs.  
“Bit of a funny story. We agreed that I’d name them if they were boys and he’d name the girls. But they’re fraternal twins! I named him Dennis and he named her Daisy!” She looked like she was gonna say something but the bell ringed.

“Oh well you should get settled into your office. Go now! Keep going that turn right. You’ll see 102A.” Louis nods. He’s so ready.

____

He’s not.

He’s so not ready

Never has he ever heard more gossip (and he’s been hooked on Hispanic soap operas and _Real Housewives_ forever). Girl after girl (the 7th on was at least six feet. She’d _eat him_ ) would come in and sit. Silent. She would bite her naills tap her foot or (his personal favorite) open their mouth then close it.

He’d take off his glasses and look away from his work (why the hell did he have paperwork?) and waits.

The girl (there was one boy in there) would look up and just ball. Sobbing and Louis was scared. Like, _damn,_ he wasn’t ready.

And he’d sit close (not too close, he’s still scared. He likes his face). “Hey, Take all the time you need. I’m here for you.”

And they’d sober up a bit. And he’d say, “Look. I’m gonna help you. I just need say. What you say will stay in here. I make you a file with notebook. You can write whatever you want, whenever you don’t want to talk to me. I won’t tell staff, your friends, or your parents unless you want to. The only time I’ll tell someone is when I think you’re or gonna to hurting yourself, you’re gonna or hurting someone else. I’m gonna help you, yeah?” And they’d nod, spilling their story and Louis would be there.

Caring.

He’s not so bad at this.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments? Kudos? Hope you liked.


End file.
